Bliss

False Passions

When Steve entered the gym slightly late that afternoon, taking his place near the back, he clearly saw Mireille turn around and smile at him. It was as if she had anticipated his presence. As the music for the stretching ended and then was cranked-up for the workout, she looked back once more revealing a significant interest that he was committed to stay. While the class upped its pace, skipping and dancing side to side, bending and reaching, Steve watched Mireille's movements and the suppleness of her body in motion. He mused that the job he was assigned to do was only made more enjoyable by the fact that she carried a level of attractiveness any man or woman could appreciate. And as she again looked back at him during the intense workout, Steve began to realize that the challenge before him had become all the more attainable.

As Rachel's music carried everyone through the cool-down phase, and the group enthusiastically clapped for her, Steve held his position for Mireille to casually come to him before leaving.

"You going for a cold juice again," she asked breathlessly.

"Well, not this time," he said brusquely. "But I do have a pretty solid alternative plan."

She pressed her towel to her moist forehead and tried to show no concern.

"Yeah? And what plan is that?"

"A cleaner plan, this time. We both retreat to our places for a shower and a rest. Then meet up again for dinner somewhere tonight."

A smile broke out on her beautiful face at the unexpected offer.

"Well, that does call for a few schedule changes, " she said, equally cool. "But I think it can be arranged.

"I was hoping it could be," Steve said, allowing her to score the point.

"Fine then. You'll be picking me up in that red thing you drive? Or shall I dive us in my brand-new wheels?"

"Better you drive," he said, smiling. "I couldn't find my way back to that lost forest you live in. Not in the dark anyway. So . . . nine o'clock?"

"Make it ten, and it's a date."

"Even better. Now . . . about the place . . ."

"OK, outsider. Leave it to me. You like Thai or Middle Eastern?"

"What! No burger and fries?"

"Oh my God. It's Thai then. Where you staying? Oh yeah, the Biltmore you said."

"That's it. See you in the lobby at ten."

"I can't believe I'm giving up my precious yoga and a few other rituals for this tonight."

"Haven't you heard? Spontaneity is the spice of life?"

"I must warn you, Steve. The only spice I want in my life right now . . . is in food!"

He smiled. "Message received. See you tonight."

As they made their way to the door, Mireille skipped out and climbed into the waiting taxi while Steve nodded to himself with satisfaction. It was a job in process. And going exceedingly well. 

* * *

When he got back to the hotel room, Steve checked his cell phone. There was a voice message posted an hour and a half earlier. Activating it, he recognized Kate's voice:

"Steve—my casting for the video has been moved up to tomorrow at eleven in the morning! Sorry about the late notice. Kevin says there's no other way. It pays 300 cash. But I won't go for it unless you're in that room with me. OK? I'm so nervous. Please be there as you promised. It's at the Sandpiper Hotel here in SB, room 211. If you can't make it, please leave me a message ASAP. ~~ Kisses, Katie."